


Waking to a Nightmare

by SciFiDVM



Series: In Your Dreams [2]
Category: Revolution (TV)
Genre: From Pottsboro to Willoughby, Gen, My head canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-15
Updated: 2018-01-15
Packaged: 2019-03-05 01:26:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,384
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13377207
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SciFiDVM/pseuds/SciFiDVM
Summary: Charlie and Bass's fateful road trip to Willoughby continues. After deciding that she won't kill him in his sleep, it's still a big step for Charlie to see him as anything more than a monster.





	Waking to a Nightmare

**Author's Note:**

> More of my head canon. Large chunks of this are actually stolen from a long abandoned story I had started but never could figure out where to go with it. So at least this series is getting some of my favorite incomplete snippets of stuff I've had sitting on my hard drive for years out and into the light. Enjoy.

Charlie climbed into the wagon and picked up the reins.

Bass scoffed as he climbed in next to her and took the leather straps from her hands. “I’ll drive.”

“I’ll leave.” Charlie stood and started to step off the wagon’s driver platform. Just because she had decided not to kill him last night, it didn’t mean that she was going to let him boss her around.

Bass reached over, grabbed the sleeve of her shirt and pulled her roughly back down into her seat. “No. You won’t.”

She stood again and tried to tower over his seated form intimidatingly, “Don’t think I have to obey you, just because you’re the General of… Oh wait… that’s right. You’re not the General of anything anymore. You either start to treat me like a partner or I’m out. And you can enjoy finding Miles all on your own.”

He looked up at her, unmoved, “Charlotte, just sit the hell down.”

“Or what, Monroe?” His name dripped off her tongue like venom.

She barely heard the pop of the reins on over the horses’ rumps before the wagon jolted forward and she was thrown unceremoniously onto the seat.

“Or you might get hurt.” He smiled at her as she righted herself on the bench seat, fuming.

The beginning of their uneasy alliance was off to a bumpy start. They rode in silence for the next fifteen miles. He mostly kept his eyes on the road and scanned the surrounding countryside for danger. She spent the time giving him side-long or, more often, full-on suspicious glares.

Charlie became instantly wary when he slowed the wagon to a halt on the edge of a rather desolate road. “Why are we stopping?” Her hand was already unbuttoning the clasp of the hunting knife’s scabbard on her hip.

“Because I need to take a piss. If that’s alright with you… partner.” He addressed her rather inconsequentially, dropped the reins, and stepped off his side of the wagon.

Charlie gawked at him, certain it was all some kind of trick. She watched him with a focused stare as he took two steps from the wagon then paused.

“Hadn’t pegged you for the kinda girl that likes to watch.” He called back to her.

The sound of a zipper being pulled down resonated and she instantly turned her head away in horror. Charlie turned all of her attention to the copse of trees lining the road ahead where it made a sharp left hand turn. Eventually the sound of a stream of fluid hitting gravel ceased, and she heard a zipper move again. She waited until she felt the wagon shift with the addition of his weight before she dared to turn back toward him.

“You’re disgusting.” She grumbled at him.

“Whatever, princess. But if you’ve gotta go, now’s the time. We’re not stopping again until nightfall. I don’t like the look of the road for the next few miles.”

She appeared to debate for a moment before an agitated “Argh” escaped her pursed lips and she climbed down off the wagon.

“Don’t go far.” He warned.

Her response was a single finger raised high in the air for him to see.

She walked a short way up the road, until the bend took her out of sight of the wagon. She figured he probably was the type that liked to watch, the thought sending a shiver of revulsion up her spine. She made her way down into the parched drainage ditch off to the side of the road between it and the trees. A tall stand of thistle type weeds looked like it would provide adequate protection from any prying eyes, and she ducked behind them.

She had just finished and started to stand, yanking her jeans back into place, when she heard a rustle in the weeds behind her. She angrily huffed, “I swear to God, Monr…” But hands quickly encircled her throat and a pressing weight toppled her to the ground. She was pinned on her back, and some large unkempt man was straddling her waist and choking her. She struggled against him, but her arms were pinned and he weighed far too much for her to flip him off. She tried to scream, but the vice grip around her throat wouldn’t allow any air to pass. The edges of her vision were starting to go fuzzy, and she knew that this was the end for her. As her consciousness began to slip, she felt only frustration that her dying was going to prove that Monroe had been right, and she’d been wrong. What a shitty way to go.

Then, suddenly her mind and vision began to clear, and blood from the man’s neck sprayed Charlie’s face. She rolled out of the way as the limp body glided from the edges of Monroe’s swords and fell to the ground where she had been lying. As the body hit the ground, she could see Monroe standing over her, a feral look in his wild eyes. She scrambled a few feet away, still gasping down oxygen, attempting to distance herself from the body of her attacker and the crazed stare of her rescuer.

Bass sheathed the swords and took a few deep breaths, forcibly containing the rage he had unleashed within himself. His furious panting slowed and he blinked his eyes a few times.

“I told you to stay close.” He pushed the words through gritted teeth. Then he extended a hand down to help her up.

Charlie scrambled to her feet on her own, not daring to reach out and accept his hand. He turned impatiently and paced back toward the wagon. She followed, a few steps behind. They both climbed aboard and simultaneously took their seats. She didn’t say a word as he picked up the reins and urged the horses on into a steady trot.

“Do you have a death wish, or are you just that stupid?” He hissed at her. “When I tell you to stay close, it’s for a reason.”

Charlie drew on her deep reserve of animosity for the man next to her and scathed. “Yeah, well, I didn’t want you…”

He cut her off abruptly, “When are you going to realize that I’m not the one you need to be worried about?”

A sardonic snort was the only response she could muster.

He growled back at her in frustration, and they both let the conversation drop.

They rode in silence for the remainder of the day, and Bass pushed the horses hard. The sooner they got to Miles, the better, for both of them. It still gave Charlie more time than she wanted to fume over the fact that he’d saved her from being raped and murdered for the second time that week. Well, maybe just murdered this time. The crazed and half-starved marauder had seemed more focused on killing her than anything else. But who knows what his intent had been for her after she was dead. Maybe he would have just looted her body, or maybe he liked to do his murdering before the raping. It wouldn’t be the weirdest thing she’d heard of since she’d set out into the Plains six months ago. Either way, the only reason that she wasn’t blow fly food right then was because the man she’d set out to kill six months ago had just saved her life. Again. Some assassin she’d turned out to be.

As darkness began to descend, they stopped to make camp near a dilapidated strip mall in the town that had once been Plano, Texas. They both worked to unharness the horses and set them up nearby to graze. Then Bass started a small cooking fire while Charlie sorted through the pilfered supplies stashed in the wagon. As he sat down near the small fire he’d built, she emerged with a can in each hand, each sporting an American flag logo.

“Soup or beans?” She was so hungry that she didn’t care, and she figured that letting him choose their dinner might placate him somewhat.

“Whichever you’d prefer.” He answered back, his voice detached and formal, reminiscent of his days as a statesman.

She shrugged and replaced the soup can with the rest of their supplies. Then she grabbed a few other items and hopped out if the wagon. She put a pan on the fire and tossed him the can. Using a thick bladed hunting knife, he punctured the lid and created an opening before handing it back to her. She poured the beans into the pan and added a few pieces of salted pork they’d brought with them. Fortunately, they had found that they didn’t need to speak to or like each other to be able to work together. They’d both been indoctrinated into this lifestyle alongside Miles, so the similarities in how they functioned in these scenarios were eerily compatible. That was another realization that had started to grate on her. It was harder to hate him when they were working together with ease and efficiency.  
Once the food was ready, she spooned the meat and beans into two mugs and handed him one.

“Thank you.” He said politely as he accepted the meal.

Charlie found polite Monroe to be possibly more unnerving than unhinged Monroe and barely managed to respond with a cautious, “Sure.” She sat on the far side of the small fire and tried to imagine that she was sharing her meal with anyone besides the person actually seated across from her. She wasn’t really one for idle chatter, especially not with him, but the silence was starting to feel a bit uncomfortable.

“What’s our plan for tomorrow?” She asked between mouthfuls.  
“Dallas is a cesspool. We’ll go west and skirt around the city. If we’re lucky, we’ll make Waxahachie by nightfall.”

“That’s all?” Charlie questioned. They had about a hundred and fifty miles to Willoughby and she would prefer to keep the amount of time she was forced to spend in Monroe’s company to a minimum.

“We push the horses much more than twenty-five, thirty miles a day and they’ll break down.” Then his expression became slightly strained. “Of course, if I knew exactly where we were going, I could make more practical adjustments to that.”

“And if I tell you where Miles is, what stops you from leaving my cold dead body on the side of the road?” That was the real reason she had given him only the vague direction of “central Texas” instead of the exact location of her family

“Because I actually want Miles’s help.” He sighed. “I figure I got about five seconds once I find them to make a case for myself and this plan before your mother puts a bullet in my skull. And that’s only if I show up with you, unharmed, and helping to convince them to hear me out.”

“And what makes you think that I’m actually gonna stand up for you?” She asked honestly. “That I wouldn’t rather see my mom blow your brains out?”

He stood up and walked over to where she sat. He towered over her and intimidatingly began, “Because, as much as you hate me, as much of a monster as you think I am… These Patriots and what will come with them… You know they have to be stopped. And deep down, you know that a monster like me is the only chance you and your Uncle Miles have got at taking them down.” Then he leaned forward so that his lips nearly brushed her ear as he spoke, and whispered, “We need each other.”

Her body had tensed when he had entered her personal space. Then she nearly jumped out of her skin when he reached down put a hand over hers. A half sneer pulled at his lips in response to her reaction. Then he removed the empty mug from her hand and stood upright. She let out an audible sigh of relief when she realized that his only intent had been to collect her dirty dish.

“I’ll clean up and take first watch.”

“Fine.” She coughed out.

She rearranged some of the supplies in the back of the wagon so that there was enough room to spread out a bedroll. There had been a change in the wind that suggested rain was not far off the horizon. She doubted a storm would roll in that night, but better to keep under cover just in case.

She was about to climb into the wagon when Monroe stepped around the side of it carrying the cleaned cookware and taking a shot from a flask he had produced from a jacket pocket. He caught her eyeing him and extended the flask out to her. With a still untrusting look in her eye, she reached out and accepted it. She pulled herself up so that she was sitting on the back of the wagon, her feet hanging, and lifted the flask to her lips. She tilted her head back and swallowed a large gulp of the cheap whiskey. When she finished, she handed the flask back to him with a, “Thank you. For killing that guy today.”

“Like I said Charlotte, I need you alive.”

His statement provided her with an unsettling form of security. She crawled into the sleeping bag and put her head on her rolled up jacket near the end of the wagon.

The night was balmy, so he quickly smothered their fire. He checked on the horses and did a few laps around the perimeter of their encampment before returning to the wagon, which was about the time Charlie finally fell asleep.

…….

Charlie was running through the halls of the Tower, being chased by Militia soldiers, Tower guards, and a score of Neville clones. She was running with Miles, Danny, Maggie, Nora, and her mother through a long straight corridor that was never ending. Shots were flying all around them as they ran - bullets, crossbow bolts, and rippling waves of plasma from the pulse guns. One by one her family and friends dropped beside her and Miles dragged her onward at a run, not allowing her to stop for any of her losses. After running for what felt like hours, she and Miles came to a corner in the corridor. They would make the hard right and finally be out of range of their pursuers’ weapon fire. As they rounded the corner, Miles suddenly faltered. Monroe had been waiting for them, and Miles’s momentum in taking the turn had driven him straight onto Monroe’s outstretched sword. Charlie screamed as Monroe pulled the sword from his former friend’s stomach and Miles crumpled into a dead heap on the floor. Then Militia guards had appeared out of nowhere and were holding her shoulders and immobilizing her. Monroe turned to her, and the sneer on his face was pure malice as he goaded her, “You’re next Charlotte. Charlotte. Charlie?”

“Charlie!”

Charlie snapped her eyes open to find Monroe in her face, yelling her name, and shaking her shoulders. The transition from dream to wakefulness was blurred and she screamed again as she struggled to sit up and start scrambling back away from the man she’d just watch murder Miles. Her back hit the stacked boxes in the wagon and she panicked as she realized that she was trapped with Monroe slowly advancing toward her.

“Hey. Calm down. Take it easy…” He tried to keep his voice soft and calming, but there was a twinge of frustration in it. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

Charlie’s consciousness started to filter out the dream from reality and she suddenly remembered where she was and why. She relaxed her muscles out of her flight or fight state, but was left panting as she waited for her hammering heart rate to drop back out of the stratosphere. She still flinched when he reached toward her, and he calmly retracted the hand.

“You were having a nightmare.” He tried to talk her down.

She stared at the cold blue eyes that she had just watched kill her uncle in her dream. “I think I still am.” It came out more breathless than she had intended.

Monroe just raised his hands in a gesture of surrender and slowly backed out of the wagon, giving her space.

It took Charlie a lot longer than she expected to get herself under control. Damn, that had been unnerving. No one should ever have to be woken out of a nightmare by the same monster they were fighting in their bad dream.

She eventually collected herself and stepped tentatively out of the wagon. Monroe took a few cautious steps toward her, but still kept a respectable distance between them.

“I’m gonna guess from your reaction that that wasn’t one of those harmless nightmares where you just showed up at school naked.” He shot her a thin lopsided grin.

“Not so much.” She responded flatly. His attempt to seem cute and non-threatening almost began to put her at ease, which then unnerved her even more.

“Usually I’m flattered when a woman dreams about me.” He kept laying it on thick, an obvious attempt to help her distance her perception of him from the murderous General he’d correctly assumed he had been in her dreams.

“Stop it Monroe.” She barked at him. “I’m sure you’d handle it so much better if whatever the hell it is you have nightmares about every night was the first thing you saw when you woke up. But, I’m actually human, so just give me a freaking minute.”

His face dropped and he nodded silently. He stayed still and motionless at the back corner of the wagon.

She took her time and collected herself. Once her brain had fully differentiated between subconscious and conscious realities, she relaxed. Miles was still alive. Monroe was trying to find him to help him, not kill him. Supposedly. She was slightly more than fifty/fifty confident in that assertion at that point.

Charlie calmly stepped out of the wagon and started walking to the edge of the woods surrounding the delapidated parking lot they’d pulled into for the night.

“Where are you going?” His voice lacked his usual harshness.

“Gotta piss.” She grunted back at him without turning to look at him.

“Do I need to remind you…”

“Go fuck yourself.” She interrupted his warning as she squatted behind some scrubby bushes at the very edge of the tree line. She didn’t even care if he was watching at that point.

When she approached the wagon again, she found Monroe making himself comfortable on top of the sleeping bag inside the wagon.

“It’s your turn to take watch anyway.” He muttered at her.

She huffed audibly, but looked up at the sky and realized he was probably right. She sighed in resignation and sat on the far edge of the back of the wagon, putting as much distance as possible between herself and her companion. She scanned their surroundings.

The horses were munching on grass and dozing on their picket line nearby. The night was cloudy and humid, but wasn’t about to let loose with rain yet. There were no lights that she could see. None of the forest birds or smaller creatures showed any sign of being disturbed. She closed her eyes so she could focus on the sounds around them. She heard the grazing horses and the chirping and buzzing of insects in the early fall night. She heard no sounds of unexpected movement in their vicinity. Somewhere very far in the distance, she could just barely hear the cries of a pack of coyotes.

“I wish I could wake up and see the people from my nightmares right in front of me.”

Monroe’s voice was quiet but still so unexpected that Charlie nearly jumped. He’d been so still and noiseless that she had assumed he’d been asleep. “Come again?” She wasn’t sure what he was talking about.

He sighed and rolled over to face her. “What you said earlier… about waking up to find a person from your nightmares in front of you…” He paused and then seemed to look past her as he continued, “The people from my nightmares are all long dead. Most nights I watch them die over and over. I’d give just about anything to be able to wake up and find them alive again.”

Charlie couldn’t keep the shock from her face. Her earlier statement had never been intended to elicit a response, let alone a sincere one. She hadn’t expected such candor. While a large part of her brain cautioned her to be skeptical of his revelation, another part of her mind actually felt bad for Sebastian Monroe and triggered an ache for him behind her sternum. She wondered what she was supposed to do with this new knowledge so freely given to her.

“Why are you telling me this?” She asked as he turned over to face away from her.

“You asked.”

“Actually, I never asked you anything.”

“You wanted to know.” He shrugged.

“So anything I want to know about you, all I have to do is ask?” She couldn’t believe that.

“Ask me anything. I’m an open book.” He said through a yawn. “Just maybe wait until tomorrow if you don’t mind. I wanna try to get some sleep tonight.”

She looked at the back of his head hard enough to bore a hole in it. “Like you aren’t gonna just lie to me.”

“I can’t guarantee you’re gonna like what you hear, but Charlotte, I won’t lie to you.” He’d shifted to be able to look her in the eye as he said it. Then he turned away from her again.

Charlie scoffed. “Why not? Everyone else does.”

She wasn’t expecting an answer to her huffy question, so she was a little surprised to hear his voice again. “No point.”

She glared at the back of his head, more than a little confused.

He sighed and continued without turning to face her. “Nothing I tell you could make you hate me more than you already do. Trying to hide the truth would just be a waste of energy.” He took a breath and added, “Never really been my style anyway.”

“Huh.” Charlie mused. “I thought you’d have gone with some BS about wanting to win my trust.”

“Like I said, I’m not gonna lie to you.”

That actually elicited a small smile from her. She wasn’t sure why she found that small bit of honesty amusing. Maybe it was the irony.

After a pause he added, “Not like you’d ever trust me no matter what I say. You know you need me, but you’re still thinking about trying to kill me.”

“Trying?” She mocked his word choice. “If I wanted you dead, you’d be dead.”

His breath came out as a soft chuckle. “Like last night?”

Charlie startled.

“I know you were thinking about it. Good choice, not going for it.”

Charlie was slightly unnerved to realize that he’d been aware of her aborted attempt on his life the previous night, when she had been sure he was asleep. “Well… don’t make me regret that choice.”

“You’d have regretted it a lot more if you had tried.” He rolled over to face her, and the shit eating grin on his face was nearly unnerving.

“You think so?” Charlie wasn’t sure what to make of that statement. His words sounded menacing, but the tone was almost joking.

“Here’s how it would have played out.” He propped his head up on his elbow. “After plenty of convincing yourself what a big bad monster I am and that I had to die for the good of all man kind or whatever, you’d take the swipe at me. But there’d be that half second of hesitation, because no matter what you tell yourself, you’re no killer. You might be able to fight a battle or defend yourself, but this is cold blooded murder. That’s a whole different animal. And it’s not you. So for a split second you’d feel bad about what you were doing. That instant of hesitation is all I would have needed to get an arm up and block you. You’d get indignant that I grabbed your arm, probably take a cheap shot at me. We’d wrestle around a bit, and you’d end up pinned to the ground and weaponless. Probably would have been pretty embarrassing for you.”

“You think you got me all figured out?” She was not going to admit that his assumptions were probably all spot on.

“Tell me what part of that wasn’t true.” His smile was inquisitive.

She just glared at him.

“God Damn.” He laughed. “You’re starting to remind me real hard of a certain somebody back when they were your age.”

“Lemme guess.” Charlie rolled her eyes. “Miles?” The answer’s validity was assumed in her tone.

“Shit no.” He laughed. “Me.”

Whatever comeback had been on the tip of her tongue died there and left her mouth hanging open in disbelieving shock.

“Miles has always been a broody, mopey motherfucker stuck in his own head. You’re all righteous indignation and overconfident swagger.” He looked almost giddy. “Must have driven Miles fucking nuts last year. Probably felt like he was back in Afghanistan on our first tour all over again.” Catching her disgusted and disbelieving glare he added, “Don’t look so insulted. I meant it as a compliment.”

“Wow.” Charlie deadpanned. “That’s not messed up at all.” She rolled her eyes as the sarcastic comment left her mouth.

He shook his head. “You keep on fighting it, but I think we’re gonna end up working together just fine.” Off a malicious sneer from her, he added, “Which is probably just gonna piss you off even worse.” Then he smiled to himself and rolled over to face away from her again.

Charlie couldn’t come up with any expletives strong enough to hurl at him in that moment. They were not going to work well together. She was nothing like him. He should not be enjoying this. What had she gotten herself into?

“Good night Charlotte.” He almost snickered at her.

Charlie groaned as she looked away from him. This was turning into a nightmare.

 


End file.
